


Four Times Jim Spanked Blair and One Time He Almost Didn't

by maaaaa



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:15:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23672164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maaaaa/pseuds/maaaaa
Summary: Written in July 2008 for the LiveJournal comm Sentinel Thursday's 5th anniversary.Missing scenes/spoilers for Cypher, Rogue, The Rig, Black or White, and Survival.Contains consensual and non-consensual spanking.
Relationships: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg
Kudos: 7





	Four Times Jim Spanked Blair and One Time He Almost Didn't

**Author's Note:**

> Written in July 2008 for the LiveJournal comm Sentinel Thursday's 5th anniversary.
> 
> Missing scenes/spoilers for Cypher, Rogue, The Rig, Black or White, and Survival.
> 
> Contains consensual and non-consensual spanking.

Blair should’ve let it go. He really should’ve. After the wild goose chase at the Maritime Museum Jim was clearly in no mood to listen to his cock-sure theories about the serial killer.

Jim asked him to give it a rest, to come up for air and call it a night.

But Blair persisted as he paced the loft energetically. Hands flying, mouth motoring, as if Dr. Bates pronouncing his theory was right on the money excused his rash actions. As if the one puzzle piece he’d lucked into by going to Club Doom made him an instant expert at detecting.

It was the going to Club Doom that was stuck in Jim’s craw.

‘No, no way, not without me.’ He’d said clearly to Blair. ‘I said, no way. It’s too risky.’ He’d emphasized. ‘An advisor who doesn’t do what he’s told to.’ He’d admonished in Simon’s office with a stern glare.

So on Blair’s next mouthy pass, Jim impulsively snagged him and landed six, eight, ten, maybe twelve hard swats on the seat of his jeans.

It was over before either of them really even realized what’d happened.

And then Jim pushed Blair roughly up against the wall next to his room, crumpling his blue shirt, breathing heavily against his mouth, his lips inches away.

Each man’s eyes narrowed and flickered with bewilderment, chests heaving, fingers digging into each other’s arms, minds and bodies floundering.

Neither man spoke.

Jim regained his composure first. With a confused, unapologetic look, he let go of Blair brusquely and retreated up the stairs.

Blair ducked into his room, and flopped stomach down onto the futon. He grabbed a pillow and buried his face in it. His backside burned, but not altogether unpleasantly.

“Oh shit,” he mumbled around a smile he couldn’t stifle as his cock twitched.

+++

“You know, Jim, I would’ve done it you know,” Blair said out of the blue. He was sitting on one of the couch’s arms, feet dangling, as he watched Jim trying to pace off some of the pent up energy left over from cold-cocking Brackett and the debriefing that followed.

“Huh?” Jim asked ineloquently, turning to look at Blair quizzically. “What the hell are you talking about Sandburg?”

Blair looked at Jim and then glanced up toward the ceiling with disinterest. He answered, deadpan, “The wire in your pants. I would’ve taken it out.”

Jim shut his eyes, and placed his fingertips on his furrowed brows, shaking his head.

Taking his eyes off Blair was a mistake, because in the next second, Blair was in front of him, one hand on the zipper of his pants, giving it a tentative tug.

Jim’s eyes popped open. “Sandburg,” he hissed sharply, taking a step back.

“What?” Blair goaded huskily as he secured his hold and tugged more forcefully.

“Stop it,” Jim demanded, taking hold of Blair’s hand. His attempt to dislodge Blair’s grasp resulted in both his and Blair’s hands bumping his crotch. His cock reacted and Blair grinned mischievously.

“Make me.” Blair challenged, grappling against Jim’s grip. “Come on,” he whispered, “make me.”

Their eyes met, dancing with questions, pushing for answers.

“Make me.” Blair said again softly, this time a plea.

Comprehension lit Jim’s eyes. He shifted his weight and leveraged it to twist Blair’s wrist up, twirling him around at the same time, and pinning it to the small of his back. He pulled Blair up against him and whispered in his ear.

“You sure?”

Blair leaned back into Jim, shaking slightly, but nodding his head.

Jim guided Blair the few steps back to the couch and deftly pushed him down over the couch arm he’d recently vacated. He released his hold on Blair’s wrist, and Blair scrabbled for purchase, raising his ass in the process.

Jim hesitated, momentarily indecisive, as he looked at Blair’s squirming ass, before quickly baring it.

Blair hitched a few tentative, ragged breaths, but his ass relaxed as Jim gently ran his right hand over it a few times, making soft shushing sounds, and pressed his left hand into the small of his back.

Then Jim spanked him rapidly, clumsily at first, until he found a rhythm that satisfied them both.

And then Jim pulled Blair from the couch, easing him to his knees as he dropped to his knees himself. He kissed Blair fiercely and then took one of Blair’s hands and placed it on his fly. Then he cupped Blair’s ass in both hands. Blair steadied himself against Jim by putting his free hand firmly on Jim’s hip.

“Go ahead,” Jim prompted with a teasing squeeze, “see if you can find the wire.”

Blair looked up into Jim’s face. A pink flush covered his neck and cheeks. He looked a little dizzy and wore a crackpot grin. He pulled the zipper down and started to slide his fingers in, then stopped.

“Make me,” Blair reiterated giddily.

And Jim obliged.

+++

Blair had fantasized about Jim putting him over his knee to be spanked, but the first time it happened reality and fantasy turned out to be way different then he’d imagined.

He wasn’t even sure what Jim was using to paddle him with; he hadn’t been given the opportunity to see it. But his butt stung like all get out, and not in the pleasant way that made his cock hard that he’d come to appreciate.

One minute Jim was on the rig bantering with him and needling him about housebreaking and imposing preposterous rules, and then they were in a chopper heading back to Cascade with Jim apparently going through some sort of funky decompression mode as the events of the past twenty four hours spilled out of his mouth in fits and spurts, and then they were back in the loft, showered and safe.

And that’s when things went wonky.

They settled on the couch, side by side. Blair was winding down by rolling his neck and shoulder muscles with his eyes closed. But Jim was winding up. Over and over, his frantic shouts of ‘Sandburg! Sandburg!’ echoed in his mind as he pictured Blair racing toward the bomb instead of away from it.

He grabbed Blair by the shoulders and pulled him roughly toward him and then shook him irritably.

“What part of there’s a bomb on the rig didn’t you get?” Jim said suddenly, his features grim and pasty with fear. “What part of get out of there right now didn’t you understand?” He said in a raw, cracked voice Blair’d never heard before.

But before Blair could formulate a reply that would assure Jim that he was truly all right, that it was just post event jitters fueling Jim’s questioning, Jim yanked him across his lap.

It was really only a flurry of a dozen or so swats that formed Blair’s first impression of being over Jim’s knee as an unpleasant experience.

The spanking stopped abruptly, and Blair struggled to right himself. Jim still pinned him down with one hand on his back and Blair made due with looking over his shoulder. He was surprised to see only Jim’s hand resting on his butt, and even more surprised to see the stunned, vacant look in Jim’s eyes.

“Shit, that was just your hand?” Was the first remark he uttered disbelievingly.

Jim glanced at him and blinked. Moisture pooled in the rims of his eyes. He pulled his hands away from Blair quickly, as if they’d received an electric shock.

“I thought, I, I was afraid I’d,” Jim sputtered, sounding helpless. He gulped once then added in a taut voice, “I could’ve lost you.”

Blair let his head flop down onto his forearms for a moment, assessing Jim’s words and actions, deciding what Jim’d just done could be disastrous to their relationship if he’d let it.

He sighed deeply and then looked over his shoulder again.

“You are such a dick, Ellison,” he stated, shooting the words at Jim like barbs, getting his attention.

Jim frowned, insulted.

“Get over yourself,” Blair admonished as he ground his dick against Jim’s thighs and added acerbically, “I’m alive you dope.”

Jim grunted, a sort of half chuckle. And he patted Blair’s ass.

“Mmmmm,” Blair hummed as he wormed himself comfortably into Jim.

“I’m---,” Jim started.

“Can it, Jim,” Blair warned sternly, narrowing his eyes. “If you ever spank me again in anger, or frustration, or in any way, shape or form that’s not meant to---,”

“I won’t,” Jim vowed solemnly.

Blair nodded, and smiled at Jim.

“Okay then,” he purred, getting comfy right where he was, shimmying his ass, “Do it right.”

Jim’s laugh was lascivious as he pulled Blair’s jeans and shorts down and started spanking.

+++

“So how many times have you obfuscated to me?” Jim pried for at least the hundredth time since Blair had explained the differences between lying, BS’ing as male ritual bonding, embellishing the truth, and obfuscating as they all stood around outside the church.

He’d started in when they got into the truck and hadn’t let up all the way back to the loft.

“You just aren’t going to let this go are you?” Blair retorted. He leaned hipshot against the kitchen island and crossed his arms.

“Nope,” Jim replied succinctly. He arched his eyebrows, which accentuated the playful twinkle in his eyes.

“Ahhhh,” Blair commented thoughtfully. He pursed his lips, and tapped them lightly with a fingertip. “Well then. Let me think.”

Jim leaned against the couch back, crossed his arms too, and waited.

Blair slowly walked around the island, running his hand along the smooth edges, with his eyebrows scrunched, mouthing a silent inventory, and stopping every few steps as if to check his tally mentally.

Jim observed all this with a wry smile.

After the third circuit of the island, Blair peeled away and walked over to where Jim stood. His lips were pursed once again, and he was nodding his head pensively.

This was going to end only one way and they both knew it.

Jim waited patiently for it, but Blair’s reply, when it finally came in a soft, innocent lilt through those magnificent lips, was even better than he’d anticipated.

“I’ve never obfuscated to you, Jim,” he lied sweetly through his teeth with enough signals that even someone who wasn’t a human lie detector would know it was a lie, or BS’d male ritual bonding, or an embellishment of the truth, or obfuscation…take your pick.

“Is that so?” Jim asked delightedly. “You know what’s gonna happen if you are obfuscating, dontcha?” He leered.

Blair leaned forward and kissed Jim with a quick, soft peck.

“Why no, I have no idea,” he taunted with another well-aimed lie. He blinked demurely, and Jim laughed out loud.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Jim scolded mildly. “I’m gonna hafta spank you, I’m afraid,” he said with a deep sigh, trying to sound disappointed.

“But I don’t wanna be spanked,” Blair pouted unconvincingly. He placed his hands on Jim’s chest and sighed dramatically.

“That’s the biggest obfuscation of all,” Jim countered with a hearty guffaw, hitting the nail squarely on the head.

A little later, with his ass still warmed and tingling, plastered up against Jim’s sweat-slicked side, his cock still itchy and twitchy, Blair whispered in the dark.

“I lied that first day we met, you know. I’m not really Dr. McKay.”

Jim groaned and slapped Blair’s ass.

+++

“I can’t.”

Jim’s voice sounded pained.

He stroked Blair’s ass reverently when what Blair wanted was for him to be spanking it irreverently.

Blair pushed away from Jim, where he’d been curled up next to him on his side, and turned onto his back. He grunted in exasperation.

“The doctor said I could and should return to all normal activities.”

Ignoring Blair’s remarks, Jim looked at the scar on Blair’s forehead, which had healed to an almost invisible thin white line. And then he switched his gaze to Blair’s leg. The scar there was more pronounced…a small crater, imperfectly round with jagged edges, still pinkish purple with new skin.

“Stop it Jim,” Blair ordered sharply.

Jim responded wearily.

“It’s my fault.”

“Here we go,” Blair bitched condescendingly. “You only had one frickin’ bullet Ellison, and I know for a fact it’s not the one that ended up in my leg.”

Jim looked at Blair icily.

“I should’ve made you go back to town. You had no business being out there---,”

“Yadda, yadda, yadda, blah, blah, blah,” Blair intoned unsympathetically with accompanying mocking hand movements. “Make me go back? He snorted derisively. “Right. We are so not going to have this discussion. Again. For the umpteenth time. Not when what you should be doing---,”

Jim tore his gaze away from Blair and stared at the ceiling with a stubborn set to his jaw.

“Jim,” Blair tried again in a softer voice.

“You told me once, threatened me even, that if I ever spanked you in anger---,” Jim rasped tiredly.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So you think you spanking me because you’re angry at you would be taking out your anger on me?” Blair ground out slowly.

“Geez Sandburg.” Jim pinched the bridge of his nose.

“That’s bullshit. Go punch a goddam bag at the gym. I mean it Jim.”

Blair rolled back toward Jim. He reached over and took Jim’s hand and then placed it firmly on his own ass. His cock grew hard and nudged Jim’s hip.

“Chief, Blair, I---.”

Blair smacked Jim on the chest.

“Blair? This is worse than I thought. Just spank me for cryin’ out loud.”

He pushed Jim onto his back and climbed on top of him. He leaned forward so he was nose to nose with Jim and then kissed him ruthlessly. Their cocks rested against each other’s, Blair’s already hard, and Jim’s beginning to take notice. Then he reached between them and grabbed Jim by the balls, exerting just a bit of pressure.

“See how all right I am Ellison? See how it doesn’t matter if you think my getting shot was your damn fault? How I’m alive and horny and so damn much in love with you? How I trust you not to hurt me? How I know you’ll give me what I need? What I want?”

Jim nodded once, briefly, and with heartfelt sincerity.

In the face of such trust, love, and undying devotion, what choice did he have? Really?

He spanked Blair.


End file.
